A Haunting in the Joke Shop
by Resa Aureus
Summary: Hermione does a favor for George and Ron and ends up having an unexpected visitation from an old friend. "three-shot".
1. Chapter 1

A Haunting in the Joke Shop

...~oOo~...

Sitting in the back of the boisterous joke shop, Hermione ran the numbers. She used a Muggle calculator for bigger numbers and had a Quick Quotes Quill taking notes furiously as she rattled out information. The feather of the mobile quill whipped back and forth in a scribbling frenzy and Hermione was hoping that the writing was legible. If she had to go through it all again, she'd probably cry.

George and Ron were notorious for being messy records keepers, making her job extremely difficult. They just tossed their receipts into a box along with other important documents until it overflowed and they'd start a new one. Unfortunately Hermione only discovered their "filing system" when it was too late. The damage had been done.

So there Hermione was, going through every piece of paper they'd saved over the past year to figure out whether the joke shop was in debt or not.

They were lucky men, Hermione concluded. Normally such a flawed records system would put business owners six feet under, but sure enough the shop was popular at both locations that they were surviving and doing very well.

Sliding off her reading glasses and sitting back at the desk, Hermione took a deep breath and looked down at her left hand. A modest but beautiful engagement ring sat on her ring finger, glistening like a tiny firework on her knuckle. She smiled to herself and pressed that hand to her chest. The man she loved was currently working out on the floor with his older brother, entertaining and corrupting eleven-year-olds on their way to their first year at Hogwarts.

The end of August was always the busiest for Weasley Wizards' Wheezes and so it was probably good that Hermione had done a paperwork clean-up.

Hermione's mind had to have been floating in another world, because she hadn't seen George come in.

"Hermione!" he said, waving his hand in front of her face. "Merlin, you were so deep in dream land, I thought I was going to have to set off a rocket to wake you up."

Shaking her head, trying to get rid of the daze, she murmured, "It wouldn't be the first time you did something so reckless in the shop." Then she took a good look at the redhead's outfit and grin. "George, when did you get a haircut?"

He shook his head, looking confused. "I'm not George, Hermione! It's Fred! You'd think you'd be able to tell us apart by now." Chuckling, he shook his head.

Hermione paused, her face curling into a glare. "That isn't funny, George."

"No, really! Look, I have both ears!" The man turned his head to show that he did, in fact, possess both ears on either side of his freckles face.

Hermione's blood turned as cold as ice. "B-but... Fred, you're..."

"Handsome? Clever? Hilarious? Why, yes, Hermione, indeed I am! I'm glad you noticed," Fred taunted, smiling so wide that every one of his teeth showed. Casually, he slid up onto the desk and swung his legs, looking over at the godsmacked girl.

"N-no..." she said, her voice cracking. "You're... but you're dead!"

Now it was Fred's turn to look confused. "What do you mean, dead? 'Course I'm not dead! What would any of you do without me? Have you hit your head, kitten?"

Slowly, Hermione stood from her chair, shaking her head. "No, I haven't. Fred, are you... are you a ghost?"

Fred laughed hard, now. "Ghost?! Not at all! Maybe you should get going home, Hermione. You must've had quite the dream just now."

"Fred, what date is it?"

"Well... well, I'm not sure, but I've never been one to keep a calendar," Fred said indifferently, shrugging. "Live for the present, and all that. George doesn't either. It's sometime in May, isn't it?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's August, Fred."

Fred's brows pulled together in bemusement. "Hmm... Never been so off before. Are you sure?"

She nodded.

Always the careless one, Fred shrugged again. "Oh, well. Better start keeping track!"

The burning in Hermione's eyes came. Before she knew it, she could only see Fred through a watery screen, warping his colorful outfit and bright red hair. Hurriedly wiping the tears away, Hermione took a deep breath.

"Was there something you needed Fred?" she asked, concluding that the man sitting on the desk was, in fact, a ghost. There was no other explanation.

"Well... yeah," Fred said, an out-of-character blush coming to his cheeks. "But you seem a bit out-of-it, so we can talk tomorrow." He made to hop off the desk.

"No!" Hermione said frantically, the panic squeezing her heart. "N-no, you have to tell me now. I... I... won't be here tomorrow," she quickly lied.

Looking puzzled by her outburst, Fred said, "Okay... Um." He cleared his throat. "I know... I know you have a thing for my little brother."

Unconsciously, Hermione curled her left hand that bore the ring Ron gave her.

"And," Fred went on, "you two are probably going to get over yourselves soon and snog each other senseless."

"Fred," Hermione said, blushing despite herself.

The twin smirked. "It's true, though. You two need to kiss and get it over with. Honestly, the sexual tension between you two is enough to make the whole room randy."

Hermione placed a hand over her mouth to hide a giggle.

At the laugh, Fred's smile grew. "Your laugh is great, don't cover it!"

Still grinning, Hermione lowered her hand and nodded for him to go on.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes! You and Ronnie's hormones. I support you two one hundred percent!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Really? I always got the impression that you thought I was a little... oh, how did you put it? Know-it-all, swotting, frizzy-haired, buck-toothed...?"

"Guilty as charged," he admitted. "But that's kind of part of what I wanted to say. I know George and I were always teasing you and everything, but that had a lot to do with the fact I fancied you."

Not able to prevent it, Hermione's eyes got huge and her face got hot. "W-what?"

"I had the biggest crush on you," Fred said simply, like they were discussing the weather. "I figure, with the war going on, what've I got to lose? Just felt like I needed to tell you."

Hermione was flushed to her hairline. Taking a deep breath she said, "Oh... well... thank you, I suppose. I'm quite flattered actually. I, um, had a bit of a crush on you as well when I was in Third Year."

A very Fred-like grin stretched across his face. "Really? Interesting. I always knew you loved me."

Hermione laughed. "I wouldn't say I _loved_ you!"

"Don't deny it. I'm a stud." He winked.

"Oh, how the truth comes out," Hermione said teasingly. "I must be transparent! You've known my intentions all along."

Chin up proudly, Fred said, "Of course I have. I am the great Fred Gideon Weasley! It's my job to know these kinds of things."

"Well, my secret is out." Rolling her eyes, Hermione chuckled again. Fred, even in the afterlife, had the ability to lighten her spirits and light up the room.

"Now that we all know of your poignant feelings for me," Fred said, "how about, after this crazy war is over, you let me take you out to dinner? Just to give the older brother a fighting chance? Who knows, after a night with me, you might be saying 'Ron, who?'"

Hermione laughed, but simultaneously felt the tears coming once more. The war was over, Fred was dead, and she'd never have that dinner with him. She would never laugh at one of his silly jokes again. No one would. And the pain of the loss was fresh once more, like she was walking into the Great Hall to find his stone cold body, bloody and still once more.

But still, Hermione nodded through the tears and cleared the thickness in her throat. "Sure. I'd love that."

Fred's head cocked to the side curiously. "What's wrong, 'Mione? The thought of one date with me can't be all that awful. I didn't twist your arm to agree or anything."

Hermione shook her head and wiped at the streams running down her cheeks only for more to descend. "I'm not upset, Fred. I'm... well, I'm actually quite happy." Hermione let out an incredulous laugh. "I'm so happy that I... I got to see you again."

"You see me all the time. Who knew you were so eager for my company?" he gloated. "I always thought you thought I was an immature loser."

"No, no! Never! Immature, maybe a little, but not a loser! You were... are a genius, Fred! So clever, and so funny! I don't know what... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Don't worry, love," Fred said with another wink, his blue eyes glittering with tell-tale mischief. "You'll never have to find out."

Covering her mouth once more, Hermione tried disguising a sob as a laugh.

Fred said, "Well, I better get back on the floor! George is probably lost without me."

Hermione nodded, thinking about the forlorn frown that adorned George's face nowadays. She admitted, "Yes, he truly is."

"I'll see you later, 'Mione! Let's save the world, shall me?" Fred said, beaming. He turned and twisted the doorknob.

"Wait, Fred!" Hermione panicked as Fred stepped out and closed the door behind him. She sprinted to the door and threw it open, trying to catch him.

But when she opened the door, all she found were smiling children testing merchandise and tired-looking parents.

No Fred to be seen.

Almost hyperventilating, Hermione began hunting around the store hectically, checking every aisle and level, running up and down steps, murmuring apologies absently when she bumped into people.

But he was nowhere to be found.

"Hermione? Are you okay?"

Hermione spun around to the voice, to find her fiancee, looking worried and a little frightened.

"You've been blowing through the shop like a tornado, George says," Ron said slowly. "Is everything alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I think..." Hermione said, choking on her words, "that's because I have."

That was the moment where in the corner of the store, a dozen fireworks started going over, exploding into the ceiling and with rainbows of sparks.

George was by Hermione and Ron in a second. "I didn't do that," he said quickly before his brother or Hermione blame him.

The fireworks formed playing animals, one of which was a prancing, cackling hyena and the other a graceful swimming otter. The two sparkling creatures nuzzled before promptly exploding into a heart and fizzling out.

"A hyena... That was Fred's Patronus..." George said, slightly dazed.

"And Hermione's... is an otter," Ron put together.

Hermione just smiled and reached out to hold Ron's hand.

That was the first day the joke shop was haunted.

...~oOo~...

A/N. I cried. I really did. I just love Fred so much. If you would like to see more chapters of Fred's haunting the joke shop, REVIEW! He would be the most fun ghost ever, I think. If you have any other ideas for this to become a story, let me know - but for now this remains a one-shot.

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	2. Chapter 2

A/N. Fred should have never died. It was JKR's biggest mistake.

...~oOo~...

It was early on a Saturday morning in the spring. Hermione remembered it being sunny, but with a breeze that whistled through the buildings in Diagon Alley. There were only a few clouds and the sky was a light, powder blue - much like Ron's and many of the Weasley boys' eyes.

It was the perfect day for a wedding. Hermione's wedding to be precise. In only a few short hours, Hermione would be a Granger no more, and instead become a Weasley - officially taking on the name of the family she'd been part of for years. Her heart was skipping at the thought of being Ron's wife. He was her best friend, and that was the best sort of love, in her opinion. They knew each other better than they knew themselves. They kept no secrets and told no lies - and she loved him very much.

But maybe she had one secret. It wasn't a secret of consequence, but a selfish sort of secret, and sort of a confusing one.

But how did you explain to the man you love that all the strange things happening at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was due to his deceased brother?

Using her husband-to-be's keys, Hermione unlocked the front door of the joke shop and walked in, the bell of the door tinkling as she did. With a few flicks of her wand, the lights went up in the colorfully crazy shop. A few of the toys with minds of their own were dancing on their places on the shelves and the pygmy puffs were resting in their little wool nests.

But Hermione came for something - or rather, someone - else.

"Fred!" Hermione called out, stepping further into the shop. "Fred, I'm know you're in here!"

Popping up from behind the register counter came a flurry of red hair and white teeth shaped in a grin. Hermione gave a start and a little squeal before realizing it was the mischievous, laughing Fred.

"Come to buy something?" Fred asked, smile wide. "But I must warn you - I am not for purchase... You can have me for free." He winked and leaned against the counter.

Hermione chuckled and said, "Thanks, but you'll have to take that up with my husband."

"Husband?"

"Well, he will be in a few hours, at least," Hermione explained, walking forward and staring at him across the counter. "My wedding is today."

"Don't think that gets you out of our date."

The memory of the last time she saw him was fresh in her head. She'd been doing the books for Ron and George when Fred appeared, ready to chat, and with no knowledge of his death. It had broke Hermione's heart, but she'd played along with tears in her eyes, making a promise to go to dinner with him after the war.

"So I'm guessing you've figured it out, huh?" Hermione said, her voice slowing and lowering. Already, her chest was thumping heavily.

Fred's smile softened and saddened, but it never left his face. "Yeah. Didn't take me long. It was weird at first, you know? I didn't remember the battle or that wall... but once I realized that no one could see me and that I could walk through walls, it came back to me."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry."

Fred shrugged. "Don't apologize. I'm having a hell of a time. Who knew being a ghost could be so much fun?" His smile returned in full force, shining like a second sun.

"You're shameless," Hermione chuckled. "Scaring the wits out of children - and your own brothers! Some things never change, I suppose."

"Darling, not even death could make me stop pranking those wankers," Fred declared, swinging himself up on the counter and sitting facing Hermione. She noticed the way that his bum and legs never truly touched the wood of the counter, but hovered, barely a centimeter, above it. To the untrained eye, he was a solid, breathing young man abusing furniture.

"Tell me about this wedding of yours," Fred said. "Did you get a big, fluffy, fancy dress?"

"Most definitely."

"How about flowers?"

"Hundreds of them," Hermione confirmed, though that was a bit of an exaggeration.

"And the cake? Tell me about the cake."

"Its three tiers and chocolate inside with buttercream icing."

"That's my favorite!"

Hermione laughed. "I know it is. And you know... you could see it for yourself."

"Are you inviting me to your wedding, 'Mione?"

"I suppose I am," Hermione said. "I would have sent you a formal invitation, but I had no idea what to tell the post owl. 'Go to the joke shop and find the ghost' would have sounded mental, even to the bird."

"Well, I'd love to come, love, but I'm afraid I can't," Fred said with a shrug. "I'm afraid I'm stuck here. I can't leave. Otherwise, I would have swung by to Mum and Dad's for supper.0"

Hermione's heart plummeted to her stomach. Had she known that Fred was basically imprisoned there... well, she had no clue what she would do about it. There was nothing she really could do, was there? It seemed wholly unfair. Fred died in battle, helping defeat the darkest wizard of all time, and his recompense was a cage.

"Oh, Fred..." Hermione murmured, feeling the tears coming.

"Don't cry, Hermione! There's no place I'd rather be for the rest of eternity. I get to see Georgie, and Ronniekins, and some of my other siblings from time to time. And most importantly, I get to see you." He smiled. "I couldn't ask for a better heaven."

Wiping at her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath. Pull yourself together, she told herself. She didn't go to see Fred to make him or herself upset. "I brought you something," she said, forcing her disposition to brighten. "I thought you'd want to see your niece." From her purse she pulled out a picture.

The photo was of Bill crouched on the ground next to a gorgeous little girl with red pigtails and large blue eyes, toddling in a little pink dress. Fleur kneeled on the other side of the little girl, holding up her daughters hand and waving at the camera.

"Her name is Victoire, born on the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat," Hermione told him as Fred stared down at the photograph with a sort of wonder in his eyes.

"Wow," he muttered in awe. "I'm an uncle."

Hermione nodded. "You are. Bill absolutely spoils her, and George never goes to visit her without a present. She's quite the little princess."

"She's adorable," Fred said. "I hope you don't mind if you maybe... left this here with me?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said, placing the photo on the counter, right next to the register. "Its yours to keep. I'll bring you more soon."

"Am I going to be getting a picture of a Ronald Jr. anytime soon?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow.

With a nervous laugh, Hermione said, "Goodness, no. Not for a while, at least."

"I'll admit, I'm a little relieved," Fred said. "Can't have my soul-mate going off and procreating with my little brother. There's something wrong about that."

"Your soul-mate?" Hermione asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Fred said, his face crinkled with his joy. "It's obvious, isn't? Not Voldemort, not my death, and nor will your marriage keep us apart, my love. I know what you're thinking - I'm only a ghost, can't be much of a lover, right? But I assure you, even without a physical body, I will still be able to rock your world. Now think about that." He wiggled his eyebrows, a devilish smile on his face.

Unable to suppress it any longer, Hermione's laughter filled the air, mingling with Fred's musically. It was the kind of laughter that filled you up, the kind of laughter that could only be shared with someone who cared deeply about.

"It isn't cheating if I can't touch you," Fred added tauntingly.

"Somehow I don't think Ron will think the same way," Hermione chuckled. "Not that he'd even believe me. Why haven't you appeared for him or George?"

Fred slid off the counter with ease and landed on the floor without even a breath of noise. No thump or thud. "I don't think George could handle it, you know? I don't want to reopen the wounds. I know that if our roles were reversed, I wouldn't be able to take having him still floating around. The same for Ron. I just want them to... move on. And to continue moving on."

"Then why do you come to me?" Hermione inquired.

"You're smart, Hermione. You know I'm not really here. You're strong enough."

The lump at the back of her throat that'd been forming since he jumped from behind the counter thickened. "I'm not sure I am, Fred."

"But you are." Reaching out with one of his hands, his fingers ghosted over her cheek and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine feeling them. The warmth, the caring, the flesh. If she just closed her eyes hard enough, she could pretend he was really there.

"You are strong enough," he said gently, "to laugh with me without dwelling on me. You can walk away and say farewell before experiencing the best day of your life without struggling under the weight of my presence. And you can call out for me, and be at peace with knowing that I'm there. Even if you're not here."

Three tears leaked through her lids and she opened her eyes once more. "I never hugged you enough, Fred. And now I'd kill to do just that."

"That's an easy fix," he told her with a soft smile. "After your wedding, give George a hug. Tell him that it was for you, from me. He'll be happy to hold you, because it will also be from me, for him."

The tears came harder and Hermione was getting warm. Rubbing at her nose and eyes, Hermione reminded herself of all the things he'd said. She knew not to bear the weight of his death. She knew he wasn't there, not physically. She knew he was gone. But it felt like someone was ripping the beating heart from her chest.

"He'll think I'm crazy," Hermione sniffled. "Giving him a hug from his dead brother."

Shaking his head, Fred said, "He'll appreciate it. I don't think I hugged him enough, either."

"I'll visit you more often," Hermione promised firmly. "I will."

Shaking his head again, Fred told her, "You shouldn't. You should never spend too much time in the past. You have to live for the present - like I did. It's what I want you and all of my family to do. But that doesn't necessarily mean... a visit once in a while isn't okay." His lopsided smirk returned. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, you have a wedding to get to."

"I actually have an hour or two before I have to get in my dress and things," Hermione said, glancing at the clock.

Then Fred hesitated, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Well, then... would you fancy a game of Checkers?"

Raising an eyebrow, Hermione asked, "Checkers?"

Nodding, he said, "Yeah. I'm rubbish at Chess, and I haven't mastered playing Exploding Snaps in this form yet, but... I can play Checkers. If you're interested in a game."

Slowly, Hermione nodded her head. "I'd love that."

With a smile that made the entire shop glow, Fred said, "Briliiant."

...~oOo~...

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


	3. Chapter 3

A/N. This is the final chapter of this story. This story started off as a one-shot and then I got a lot of requests to continue, and then I was just eager for one more chapter. Here it is.

...~oOo~...

One of the many advantages of being a ghost, Fred Weasley knew, was that it was impossible to lose anything. In turn, nothing could hide from you. There was an infinite amount of spaces, nooks, crannies, and hidey-holes that a ghost had access to and an adult just didn't.

So when Fred heard a frantically maternal voice call out, "Rosie! Rosie, where are you?" in the shop one sunny Saturday, Fred was exactly the person - or, entity, rather - for the job.

The many layers of the chaotic, wild whop were easy to manipulate in his form. It only took a matter of minutes for him to find a bush of red curls tucked in an almost invisible corner made by two shelves on the uppermost level. An alive being wouldn't have been able to find her - but Fred wasn't alive.

Very careful not to startle the little girl, Fred nudged one of the shelves just enough for her to see out.

"Hey, Rosie," Fred said softly, tilting his head in such a way to make her only see one of his ears. "Your mum is looking for you, love."

Sniffling, the little girl, about seven years old, didn't look up from where her face was buried in her knees. "I'm not leaving."

"Mum will be worried, darling," Fred told her. "If you're a good girl, I promise to have a special present waiting for you at Gran's tonight."

The look that Rose put on her face was so Hermione that Fred had to stop himself from laughing. It was a blunt, knowing, do-you-really-think-you-can-fool-me look. Scrunched nose and all.

"You're not Uncle George," Rose said. Not a question. A fact.

Fred snorted. "I guess I should have expected as much from Hermione's daughter. Can't fool you."

"You're Uncle Fred," Rose supplied, expressing her intelligence further.

"How did you know?"

"Uncle George is old. You're not. There's pictures of you all over our house."

"So you know I'm -"

"Dead. Yes," she confirmed.

With another unbelieving laugh, Fred stepped through the shelves sheltering Rose and shared the cramped space with her, sliding down next to her and making it look like he was solidly leaning against the wall.

"So, tell me, Rose, what else do you know about me?"

Rose's nose scrunched again, but it was more of a thinking expression now. "Not much. Uncle George and Dad don't like to talk about you much, it always makes them sad. Mum does, though. She told me about how you and Uncle George put a swamp in Hogwarts."

Nodding nostalgically, Fred sighed. "That we did. It was easily one of our most impressive stunts, our exit from school. It was a masterpiece."

"Mum said it was a bloody mess."

Fred blinked. "Are you allowed to use words like that?"

Rose shrugged and rubbed her drying eyes. Being a know-it-all seemed to make the tears recede. "Dad says naughty words all the time."

"Yes, well, your dad might not always be the best role model sometimes, especially when it comes to his mouth," Fred told her. "Now, why don't you tell me why you don't want to go home?"

The frown that creased Rose's face made her look a decade older. "Mum and Dad are fighting."

"Ah," Fred said understandingly, nodding. "Mums and Dads do that sometimes."

"I don't like it when they fight. They yell and swear and then they don't talk to each other for days, and then everything goes back to normal... like they were never mad at each other. Even though they never said sorry."

From the mouths of babes. Rose was living proof that children saw a lot more than their parents gave them credit for. Little kids were so much more perceptive than adults, whose sensitivity dulled over the coarse of time.

"Your mum and dad are still kind of young," Fred said.

Rose's face scrunched once more, all of her freckles twisting with her incredulous look.

Fred laughed. "They are! They're not as old as you think. They're still figuring things out. Having kids is a big change, and they have two now, don't they? And as you change, their lives change. They don't have the same problems as they did when you were an infant."

"So its my fault?" Rose's eyes glossed over with tears once more.

"No, no, dear," Fred said, shaking his head. He wished he was solid more than ever, so that he could maybe brush back her hair, or pat her head, or do something to comfort her.

Fred remembered the first time Rose had come into the shop. She hadn't been walking for very long, but Hermione was showing George how good she'd gotten. Well, the little toddling baby went toppling down after only a few steps, knocking her bum and head, erupting into a fit of crying.

And before Hermione had even gotten the chance, George had swooped in and plucked little Rosie off the ground and into his arms, holding her close to his chest and bouncing her softly, murmuring soft hush noises to her.

Fred didn't think he'd ever been so jealous before. When he'd seen Rose fall, he'd had the same instinct as both Hermione and George - he moved towards her, arms outstretched to lift her. But he couldn't. He couldn't have picked Rose up if he'd wanted to.

And there Rose was again, years later, crying in the shop for another reason altogether, and he hug or rock her at all.

"It isn't your fault," Fred continued. "It's the natural order of things. Your parents love you and your brother very much. They just need to sort some things out."

"Gran and Pop don't ever fight," Rose said.

Fred scoffed. "Hah! Your grandma and grandpa are the king and queen of lover quarrels! Sure, your Pop may seem like a pretty mellow guy, always taking whatever his old lady dishes out - she's got a nasty temper - but believe you me that there were times in my youth where my mum and dad could knock down the Burrow with their rows."

Rose's eyes were wide. "No way."

"Yes way," Fred assured her, nodding. "Believe me. Ask your Pop about Easter holiday of '87. He'll tell you just how crazy those two got. Don't ask in front of Gran, though, unless you want a full-fledged reenactment of the event - which I assure you, you do _not_."

Rose smiled and nodded before saying, "Uncle Fred... why don't I see you around more?"

Fred paused and sighed. "You know how you said talking about me makes Dad and George sad? Well, I imagine my being here would have the same effect."

"Oh." Rose nodded. "That's too bad. Mum had seen you here before, though, right?"

Wow, this kid was either Einstein or a Seer. "How'd you know?"

"Sometimes when we visit to bring dad lunch, she'll look around - even if there's no one there - like she's looking for something," Rose explained. "And after looking for a while, she'll smile to herself, even though nothing happened."

Fred's mouth tipped into a crooked smile, but Rose could see that it had a hint of sadness there.

"Do you miss my mum?" Rose asked.

"Yeah," Fred said with a deep breath. "I do."

"Why don't you see her anymore? She's looking for you."

"It isn't fair, see," Fred said with a shrug. "She has a life, a family, and friends - she shouldn't worry about me. I'm dead."

"I think she likes knowing you're here," Rose told him. "She keeps a picture of you and Uncle George in her purse, you know."

"Really?"

"Yep. And when I want a story at bedtime, sometimes she'll take it out and tell me about a prank you pulled, or a rule you broke, or a battle you fought. They're my favorite stories." Rose paused. "Dad didn't like it for a time, though. Said I was too young to know so much about how you died. But Mum said that you were a hero and that I had every right to know everything I could about you."

"Your mother is quite the woman," Fred said. "Between you and me, I fancied her for some time."

With a little disgusted face, Rose said, "Really?"

"Yeah. I had a grand plan to steal her from your dad. Didn't work out though, obviously. Died and all. But in another lifetime, Rosie, I think you could have been my daughter."

"From the way mum says she was frustrated with your nonsense in school, I kind of doubt that."

"Ah, Rosie," Fred said with a grin, "you obviously don't know the charms a Weasley twin possesses. Your Uncle George and I - we're lady killers. I would have married your mum, I guarantee it."

Rose seemed to contemplate that. "Dad would be sad, though. He loves Mum an awful lot."

"I know."

"And you still would have stole her?"

"Definitely."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"Love isn't fair, kid. And neither is life - which is sort of why I'm here. Even non-life isn't fair."

Rose giggled, and then halted when she heard a new voice behind her, much louder and closer, "Rose! Ro - Oh! There you are!" The shelves were shoved further apart, revealing Rose's hiding spot to her mother. Hermione looked absolutely frazzled. "Rose Winifred Weasley, I have turned this store inside out looking for you! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Mummy, I was just talking to -"

But when Rose turned to see Fred, there was nothing there. Nothing, no body - just air. Rose sighed and felt the heat of tears behind her eyes. She felt a little panic. What if he didn't come back? What if he was gone forever? She didn't get to say goodbye!

"Talking to who, exactly?" Hermione inquired tentatively.

Rose looked up at her mother. Rose wanted to tell her mother about everything that her Uncle Fred said - about parents and life and his plan to steal her heart. But Rose also knew that the smile that appeared on her mother's face every time she entered the shop and looked for Fred was very dejected. Mum missed Uncle Fred, and Rose could see the look in her mother's eyes now as she asked who she'd been speaking to - an eagerness, but also a hesitance.

Fred had said it wasn't fair to Hermione to burden her with his presence - and Rose didn't agree.

But Rose really didn't want to make her mum upset by saying that Uncle Fred talked to her when he hadn't visited her mum in what seemed like a while.

"No one," Rose fibbed. "I was just here by myself."

Hugo was balanced on Hermione's hip, getting fidgety and yanking at her hair. "Mama! Mama!" he said, pointing wildly away from them, at a wall.

Turning to see what her son was pointing at, Hermione saw nothing.

"What is it, Hugo?" Hermione asked, looking left and right for what Hugo was pointing fervently at. "Do you see it, Rose?"

With a little shrug and a secret smile, Rose said, "Maybe he saw a ghost?"

And before Hermione could respond, she saw something on the floor in the direction of where Hugo was pointing. Walking over slowly, Hermione stopped and looked down at the object.

It was a checkerboard. And the round red and black pieces formed a big letter** F**.

It was like message just for her, a secret, an inside joke between the ghost and the girl he once loved. A little sign from her dear friend, saying "_I'm still here_."

And for the first time in a long time, Hermione laughed so hard that she cried.

THE END

...~oOo~...

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~


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